Fine Wine
by M. Side
Summary: R for language and sexual content. Carrie tries to deal with the loss of losing Aiden, and moving on with her life; Samantha tries to give up sex as an approach to growing old gracefully.
1. Fine Wine: 01

**Fine Wine**

**Chapter One **

In the wee hours of the morning, a genius is at work. A sex genius, but a genius in what she does nonetheless. She typed away furiously at her trusty laptop, answering the questions that dumpers and dumpees ask themselves everywhere:

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"Why is that when we can have our significant other, we don't want them, but when we can't have them, they become our unearthly desires and our forbidden fruit?"

*~*

"I miss him." Carrie Bradshaw slumped down in her seat, next to Samantha Jones, and across from Charlotte York and Miranda Hobbes. "I miss Aiden."

"Fuck men." Samantha said. 

"Wait." Carrie held her hands up. "Was that a statement or a command?"

Samantha smiled. "I'm sorry girls, but my fucking days are over." Miranda leaned into Charlotte and dropped her fork. "Pinch me, because in a world where Sam won't fuck a guy is not reality."

Charlotte shook her head. "Just please don't tell me you're going back to being a lesbian, Sam?"

"Oh, hell no. I'm getting older. One month I have my period, one month I don't. I'm just not in the mood to fuck anymore. It's depressing." She took a bite of lettuce. 

Carrie rubbed her head. "Samantha's libido is doubting itself. I read about it in Redbook. It's completely normal. You're normal, Sam. Sam, can you hear me? This is your good friend Carrie Bradshaw speaking. YOU'RE NORMAL."

"Last night," Sam confessed, "I watched a porno and didn't even get a twitch, let alone an orgasm."

Carrie cocked her head. "On second thought, we should be afraid. The apocalypse is coming and Samantha isn't."

Miranda snorted.

Sam sighed. "It's something I got to get used to. Every night, I used to fuck every Tom, Harry, and Dick--"

"Literally." Charlotte giggled. Carrie grinned.

"But it doesn't feel normal to me anymore." Sam went on. "I'm like the dick who couldn't stay hard."

"As opposed to The Little Engine That could?" Miranda questioned.

Sam's lip trembled. "I'm - I'm OLD." She wailed loudly and Carrie took her head under her arm and comforted her.

"Don't feel bad," Carrie said. "Most women have dry spells in their late thirties."

"Bullshit." Sam said. "I'm 41."

"What?" Charlotte asked. "Samantha, you're 41? Why did you lie to us?" 

Sam wiped her eyes. "Because you guys wouldn't want to hang around with an old fart." She sniffled while Carrie dried her eyes with a linen napkin. The white linen was stained black from Sam's running mascara.

Miranda laughed. "You're not an old fart yet. You can still your control yours. But have you smelled the elderly people's farts on the bus and train? God damn it."

Carrie rolled her eyes. "Sweetie, you're acting silly." She rubbed her arms vigorously. 

"I'm a fraud. I turned 41 on February 22." Sam sighed.

"You're a Pisces?" Carrie asked. "Cool. I am a Virgo, September 14th."

"I'm a Leo, August 4th." Charlotte grinned.

"I am the lovable Gemini, June 20th." Miranda sighed. She poked a potato. 

Sam took a deep, long sigh. "Wonderful. I am a fucking fish who's sitting at a table with a virgin, a lion, and a pair of cynical twins."

Carrie took a piece of Sam's blonde hair and pulled it back. "Sweetie, we're all fine wine -- we get better with age." 

*~*

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Disclaimer: Darren Star owns SATC. I own nothing. I don't even know their birthdays. I just made them up to see what suited them.

A/N: Please review! This is my first SATC fic and I'd really like some feedback. 


	2. Fine Wine: 02

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Author's Note: The things in Italics are from the viewpoint of Carrie. Like, how she narrates in the show. Understood? Good. 

Disclaimer: Darren Star owns everything and so does Candace Bushnell. Okay.

Fine Wine

Chapter Two

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This was Carrie, lonely on a chilly, Friday night. I couldn't call Miranda because she had made it perfectly clear that if anyone called and woke Brady up, they would die a horrible, horrible death. 

Charlotte had had a screaming match with Bunny (again) over the phone about the apartment, and she had come down with a cold and a sore throat. She sounded like shit.

There was always one person I could call… And that was my Jonesy. 

"Sam?" Carrie asked after six long rings went by.

"What's the matter?" Samantha sounded urgent, like she was in the middle of doing something - or someone.

"I'm lonely and I'm single." _As if she needed to be told._

"Join the club." Sam sighed. "I haven't had sex in a week. If I keep this shit up, my hymen might grow back."

"Jesus Christ, woman," Carrie laughed.

"That's what some guys would be saying to me right now if I were still the old me." _I could feel the pout in her voice._

"There's always Richard," Carrie tried to sound helpful. _Bad move._

"Why you think I'd go back to him after what he did?" Samantha shouted.

"I know you wouldn't go back to him as a girlfriend, but just for an 'Old Time's Sake Fuck.'" Carrie sighed, exasperated. 

"Well, you might have an idea there, but then he'd just bother me with that romantic crap." Samantha sounded bored. If there was one conversation topic that made her voice flat - it was love.

"Aren't you the poster child for Anti Valentine's Day?" Carrie questioned.

"Valentine's Day. It's all magical bullshit." Samantha paused. "A little baby wearing nothing but a sack of arrows to stab people with? And they call this a fucking holiday?" 

"Well, it is the holiday where the most fucking takes place," Carrie joked, but it didn't help Samantha.

"Whatever."

"So, Sam, what are you doing tonight?" 

"Watching 40 Days and 40 Nights on DVD."

"Sweetie, I hate to say this, but have you lost your mind?"

"Hey, if Josh Hartnett could abstain, why can't I?"

"It's a movie. I bet my ass between takes he was having beautiful women giving him a blowjob."

"You're right. He's young, he's sexy, he's a sex symbol. I could be his mother." Samantha whined.

"Don't let them get you down, Sweetie. Why don't you come out with me tonight? It'll be fun. You and me and a couple of drinks." Carrie pleaded, desperate for a change of scene.

"Yeah, fine, whatever. Be here by nine."

~ * 

"Two Cosmopolitans, please." Carrie leaned over to the bar and grabbed her drinks. "How much will that be?"

"On the house," The bartender smiled. He winked at Carrie and slid a cold beer down the counter.

"Thanks," Carrie said, and she went off to search for her blonde friend.

"I can't stay here, Carrie," Sam complained, "there's only women as horny as I am and I didn't see a single good looking guy in this dump."

"Don't be so negative. There are some cute ones here. You just gotta scope em out, honey. Look, there's - OH. MY. GOD." Carrie's mouth gasped open.

"What? Is that a good 'oh my god' or bad 'oh my god'?" Sam looked over Carrie's head to see what was going on.

"Sam, let's go - "

"No, I want to see - OH MY FUCKING GOD!" Sam screamed. She dropped her cosmopolitan and ran right out the door. She dropped it on Carrie's shoe.

__

It was unforgettable. A male had made Samantha wail and scream and turn on her heels. But it wasn't just any male. It was Richard.

There he was. Richard. Florescent lighting and all. 

"I can't believe this," Carrie said, and she too, turned on her heels to look for her quivering friend.

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Even the best of us sometimes get a little shaken up when they are haunted by their past. 


End file.
